The Deception

by Chris Taylor

  Pulling her in roughly behind him, Will closed and locked the door with a flick of his wrist before releasing her. His arrogant gaze raked over her. He started at her black wig, which had twisted so that the thick bangs now hung somewhere near her left ear. His gaze moved painstakingly over her heavily made up face, across her chest, pausing noticeably on her barely covered breasts, before continuing past the tight leather skirt that still rode ridiculously high on her thighs.

  He continued his meticulous inspection. As much as she tried to will it away, a slow, painful heat spread across her cheeks. His gaze rested on her stocking-clad legs and then slid lower to the black stilettos. Despite her suspicions, she couldn’t help the traitorous reaction of her body. Liquid heat stole into her core.

  He stepped closer and tilted her chin up with his index finger, forcing her to meet his molten gaze. “So, Red. We meet again.” His gaze raked over her again. “How delightful.”

  Savannah took a step back, moving away from his touch. Taking a quick breath, she tried to slow the staccato beat of her heart and replied through gritted teeth.

  “No, it’s not delightful and once I’ve exposed you as Vince Maranoa’s side kick, I doubt you’ll find it delightful either.”

  He barked a mocking laugh. His eyes glinted blue steel. “I see you’ve spoken to your editor.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “Yes, Max informed me about your little conversation. You owe me an apology. I’m here for a story and you damn well know it and from what I just saw out there, I have a doozie. The public will eat it up. It’s got all the elements—sex, drugs and celebrities. It’ll make my career and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.”

  All signs of humor disappeared from Will’s face. “You don’t know what you saw and for a girl who claims to be a respectable journalist, you sure as hell spend a lot of time in disreputable places. What was I supposed to think?”

  “You were supposed to believe me!” Savannah threw her hands up in the air in exasperation. She turned and moved away from him. “I told you I wasn’t a prostitute. It should have been enough.”

  Will followed her. It wasn’t until she turned back to face him she realized he was right behind her. Her breasts brushed against his hard chest. She gasped with awareness and stumbled back in surprise…and came up short against the bed.

  Her heart thumped. She was alone in a room with Will Rutledge.

  A room with a bed.

  Again.

  With a groan of frustration, she pushed hard against the solid wall of his chest. “Go away! Just leave me alone! I know who you are. I know that behind that charming veneer, you’re a slime ball of the highest order. You’re a black-hearted criminal taking advantage of innocent children, feeding them drugs, forcing them into prostitution—”

  “Whoa! Wait a second!” Will held up a hand to halt her tirade. “Your story sounds like something from a bad B grade movie. What the hell are you talking about?”

  Fury steamed through her veins. She wanted to scream and shout at him, but mindful of their need to remain undetected, she was forced to keep her voice low.

  “You know darn well what I’m talking about, Billy! You and Vince Maranoa are thick as thieves! I saw the two of you out there near the bar—all chummy, sharing a drink together, behaving like best buddies. It nearly made me sick!

  “I’ve just left the side of a fourteen-year-old girl who’s being held here against her will, forced to prostitute her body, fed drugs to keep her compliant—she’s fourteen! I come out and find you, William Rutledge, pillar of society, philanthropic man about town—you’re part of it all!”

  Too upset to continue, she turned away. With tears blurring her vision, she walked dazedly to the opposite side of the room. She took a few deep, shaky breaths in a desperate attempt to get herself under control.

  She hadn’t even told him the worst of it—that her brother was also involved. That knowledge hurt worse than anything else. She’d get over the stupid feelings she’d mistakenly thought she had for Will, but her brother was her brother forever. The thought that he was mixed up with Maranoa was beyond devastating.

  Will remained silent, staring at her. Shock and anger were etched upon his face. After several long minutes, he broke the silence.

  “How do you know all of this?”

  Savannah’s heart dropped like a stone. The weight of her disappointment almost suffocated her. She’d hoped he would deny her accusations; provide a plausible explanation for his behavior; protest his innocence.

  But he hadn’t.

  All he wanted to know was how credible her information was. Probably so he could determine how strong his potential defamation case might be against her newspaper.

  She fought against an overwhelming urge to cry. First her brother, now Will. The traumatic couple of hours she’d spent in the brothel were taking their toll and she struggled against the torrent of emotion that fought to be unleashed.

  Despite her best efforts, her body betrayed her. The sob she’d tried desperately to suppress escaped her tight control. Before she knew it, hot, salty tears poured down her cheeks.

  She turned away and leaned against the wall. Resting her head on the cold plaster, she cried like her heart was broken. She cried for the young girls like Angel who were living a hell on earth. She cried for Malee who had tried to get away from it all and had paid with her life. She cried for her parents who’d passed long before they should have.

  She cried for her brother who had lost his way. She cried for the death of her secret hope that Will Rutledge was the man of her dreams. She cried and cried and cried…

  Strong arms encircled her from behind and gently forced her around and into the warm haven of Will’s chest. He cradled her head with his hand. His arms tightened around her.

  Tugging at the disheveled wig, he tossed it to the floor. He pulled gently at the hair band in her hair and released the ponytail from its confines. His fingers worked their way through the long strands, massaging her scalp. Savannah tried not to think about how good it felt.

  “Shh.” His voice was a whisper of murmured comfort. His other hand caressed her back. “Shh, sweetheart, shh. Please don’t cry. It’s okay.”

  Savannah drew back, little sobs hiccupping from her mouth. “N-no, it’s n-not okay! N-nothing’s okay. It’s all s-so damned wrong! W-why, oh why d-did it have to b-be you?”

  Will frowned, but remained silent. When a fresh wave of sobs shook her, he pulled her back into his arms. She cried softly against the expensive fabric of his suit jacket. Her heart ached.

  Eventually, the sobs subsided and cold reality surfaced. She had to know the truth. She had to know who he really was and what he was doing at the Black Opal. Again.

  Pulling out of his arms, she moved away from him. With her arms crossed defensively over her chest, she tilted her head back and stared up at him. His eyes were dark with a tumult of emotion.

  “Who are you?” she demanded.

  CHAPTER 14

  Will’s gut clenched.

  He had to tell her.

  It was killing him knowing Savannah thought the worst of him. His heart ached over the sadness and devastation in her red-rimmed eyes and guilt and frustration burned through him for putting it there. He couldn’t stand the subterfuge another instant. He swore under his breath. For better or worse, he was coming clean.

  Needing to put a little distance between them, he stepped away from her and drew in a deep breath.

  “Six months ago, my brother, Cole, died of a drug overdose. He was nineteen.”

  Savannah nodded and he realized his brother’s death didn’t come as a surprise. It had made the news, of course, but his father had friends in high places and after the initial report of Cole’s death, the media had let the story die a quick death.

  He compressed his lips and continued. “I’m not sure if you know that he took his own life.”

  She gasped. Her expression flooded with shock.

  “Oh,
my goodness! I had no idea! How absolutely awful for you—for all of you.”

  That her first thoughts would be for him and his family warmed him through. He nodded sadly. “Yeah, it was tough, especially on Dad.” Renewed shock at the recent discovery of his father’s connection to the Black Opal ran through him. He shuddered. Now wasn’t the time to dwell on it.

  She stared up at him. “What about you?”

  The question was whispered, but he felt the words all the way down to the bottom of his soul. His fists clenched. With every fiber of his being, he didn’t want to resurrect the memories of his brother—the brother he’d loved and adored. He dragged his gaze away. “We all deal with life’s challenges in our own way.”

  “Challenges?” You call your brother’s suicide a challenge? You must be made of stone.”

  He closed his eyes against the anger that sparked in her eyes. He should have known she’d be way too perceptive to buy his casual dismissal. He shrugged, hoping to keep her questions and concerns at bay.

  “It was his decision. Even if I’d had any idea what he was planning, I doubt I would have talked him out of it.”

  “You think it was your fault.”

  Her raw statement, said so matter-of-factly, shredded the carefully constructed wall of indifference that had helped him survive the months since Cole’s death. Pain seared his heart. He almost gasped at the agony of it. He couldn’t utter another word.

  She closed the distance between them and put her arms around his waist. “It wasn’t your fault, Will. It could never have been your fault.”

  He shook his head. “You don’t understand. He was my little brother. He idolized me. I should have known he was struggling. I should have seen it. We lived under the same roof, for Christ’s sake. I should have seen it coming.” On the last words, his voice lifted to a harsh murmur.

  Her gaze burned into his. “No, Will. No. That’s not fair. For whatever reasons, your brother opted out. He didn’t reach out for help—help you would have freely given. Don’t blame yourself for his choices. Don’t ever blame yourself.”

  Her fierceness surprised and comforted him. It had been more than two decades since he could remember having someone around who cared about him, how he felt, how he was coping. The feelings were overwhelming. He wanted to draw her close, to take comfort from her presence, her warmth, but his arms stayed resolutely by his sides. Until she knew the truth, knew everything, he had to keep his distance. It was only fair.

  She was looking at him like she wanted nothing more than to hold him close and offer him all the things he’d missed out on during the many lonely years of his youth. She couldn’t know how his mother had died right after Cole’s birth; she couldn’t know how his father had doted on his baby son to the exclusion of his first born, almost as if he could replace the hole his wife’s death had left in his heart by giving all of his love to the baby who had lived. And yet, the way Savannah stared at him, imploring him to open up to her, it was as if she could see everything, all the way through to his tortured soul.

  “Savannah.” His eyes burned with emotion. His gut clenched tight. He hoped like hell he was doing the right thing. “It’s time I told you the truth.”

  CHAPTER 15

  Savannah stared at him. Her belly somersaulted with jagged nerves. She had no idea what he was about to say and suddenly she didn’t know if she was ready to hear it. It had been difficult enough to listen to him talk about his brother’s suicide.

  “Will, you don’t have to—”

  “Yes, Savannah, I do.”

  He took another deep breath, his eyes dark and unfathomable. “The thing is,” he began, “when Cole overdosed on heroin, I-I went a little crazy. All I could think of was finding the scumbag responsible for supplying him with the stuff. I wanted blood. I was going to kill the asshole.”

  Her heart thumped hard at his admission and at the fierce anger in his eyes, but she held her ground and refused to look away. “Are you trying to tell me Vince Maranoa was your brother’s supplier?”

  Will made an impatient sound in the back of his throat. “I don’t know for sure if it was Maranoa, but his drug turf extends across the eastern suburbs. At the time, Cole and I lived with Dad in Point Piper, which is—”

  “In the eastern suburbs,” she finished.

  Will’s expression hardened. “It’s not too much of a stretch to imagine Maranoa, or one of his cohorts, supplying Cole.”

  Understanding dawned. Savannah couldn’t help the relief that surged through her. “So, you’re here on a personal mission of revenge? Is that what you’re trying to tell me? That rather than being in cahoots with Maranoa, you’re actually trying to do away with him. Have I got it right?”

  Will’s cheeks flushed and he averted his gaze. Savannah frowned, assuming he was embarrassed by his admission of the degree of violence he was prepared to inflict on the drug dealer.

  As far as she was concerned, he had nothing to be embarrassed about. She understood exactly where he was coming from. She felt just as angry about the scum-of-the earth dealers who got her brother hooked.

  “It’s okay,” she reassured him. “I understand. I’m not condoning murder, but I understand how you feel.”

  Will turned to face her, shaking his head. “No, no you don’t. I mean… That is, I don’t mean that you don’t understand how I feel. What I mean is that you don’t have it right. Not all of it.”

  The intensity of his gaze as it burned into hers set her pulse galloping once again. She swallowed. “What are you trying to tell me?”

  Will stared at her. For a long moment, he said nothing. Nerves swirled in Savannah’s belly. She held her breath.

  His shoulders slumped on a heavy sigh. “The thing is, I do have a personal vendetta against Maranoa and I’ve vowed to fight with everything I have at my disposal to put him away, but I’m not a vigilante. I-I’m a detective with the DEA. At the moment, I’m—”

  “Working undercover at the Black Opal,” she finished. Shock and disbelief strangled her voice. She stumbled away from him, not even knowing which direction she’d taken until the hard, cold surface of the wall pressed in on her.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” she whispered harshly, mindful of their location. “After all the things I said to you, accused you of—you never once tried to defend yourself. I feel like such an idiot!” Her voice hitched. “You must have been laughing yourself silly.”

  “Savannah, don’t be ridiculous, of course I wasn’t. You forget that earlier, when we first met, I thought you were a hooker.”

  She frowned in consternation. “But, why would you think I was part of it? Okay, you thought I was a-a prostitute, but that didn’t mean I was involved in the drug business.”

  “You’re right. What you don’t know is that I overheard you talking to one of the other girls the night we met. You talked about Vince and about Billy… To me, it sounded like you had intimate information about the goings on here. It was only after I asked Pete about you that I discovered the truth.”

  His voice was low and calm, a voice of reason.

  Reason, be damned. She was shocked. And bewildered. And still angry. It was too darn bad their surroundings prevented her from shouting at him.

  “Do you know what would have happened if I’d written about how I’d seen you fraternizing in a brothel? Do you have any idea what would have happened to your life, your father’s business? Did you even care?” she whispered fiercely.

  Will moved closer, effectively trapping her between his hard body and the wall.

  “So why didn’t you?” he challenged her.

  She looked at him and then just as quickly looked away. Breathing rapidly, she tried to sort through the myriad of thoughts surging through her confused brain.

  He wasn’t a criminal. He wasn’t Billy. He was a cop. He wasn’t a drug dealer. He was a good guy…

  But where did that leave her? Somewhere deep inside, she was relieved and elated her suspicions about him had proven f
alse and there was also a tiny sliver of hope that maybe, just maybe she’d also been mistaken about her brother.

  Will was a police officer, a good bloke. But could she trust him not to break her heart, like Jonathan had?

  It was unfair to compare him to her ex-fiancé. Will was nothing like Jonathan, but she couldn’t forget how Will had deliberately misled her. Never once had he even hinted she was getting it all wrong.

  “I assume Pete knows?”

  His body tensed. “Of course, he’s my commanding officer.”

  “Right, of course he is. Who else?”

  He shrugged. “It’s not really a secret. I’ve been a copper for more than a decade. I don’t go out of my way to advertise it, because it suits me better to remain incognito.”

  He grimaced. “Naturally, my father’s appalled at my choice of career. I doubt he’s told a single soul that his oldest, and now only son, prefers to work for a living as a lowly police officer rather than take over the old man’s business empire.”

  She sighed at the enormity of their misunderstanding. Then another thought occurred to her. “You make the social pages on a fairly frequent basis. How come some enterprising journalist hasn’t made the connection?”

  Will shrugged. “I keep a low profile at work. I’m involved in a lot of undercover operations—especially ones that require me to be…well, myself: A young, wealthy entrepreneur enjoying life in the city. I have an office at Rutledge Enterprises. Most people assume I work for Dad.” He laughed without humor. “Lucky for me, Dad’s only too happy to keep up the subterfuge.”

  She stared at him for long moments. It was all too much to take in, particularly right there and then, in one of the bedrooms of the Black Opal. She needed to get away from him and from the possibility she might run into her brother again. She needed time to think and to come to terms with all that had happened and what she’d learned.

  She bent low and collected the wig from where Will had tossed it to the floor. With a heavy sigh, she turned away from him and walked over to the door and unlocked it.